


Lineage

by X_Kartoffel_X



Series: Sharp Suits & City Lights [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Shinra Company, pre-game, the Turks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 10:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/X_Kartoffel_X/pseuds/X_Kartoffel_X
Summary: "I-I'm alright, I'm not too hungry real-""Mom."She blinks at him, a little taken aback by his surety, but smiles all the same, hiding it with her menu.  "Alright... they have a cheesecake on the desert menu, would that and a coffee be alright?""Sure."There's suddenly a mess of red-hair looming over his mother's shoulder, peering at her menu; she stiffens a little, obviously shocked, but Reno doesn't seem to notice (or perhaps its that he doesn't care). Grinning, he traces a finger down the menu and stabs at one particular spot with a laugh. "You buyin', Partner? I'm totally gettin' the chocolate fudge cake. An' a beer. I could totally go for a beer right now."Two hours later, and Rude is wandering the late night city streets with his mother at his side; her arm linked through the crook of his elbow, one hand gripping his forearm as if to assure herself, still, that he will not go anywhere. He isn't planning to, wouldn't dare. Though, admittedly, he rather wishes Reno would.





	Lineage

**Author's Note:**

> This one's been in my drafts for a long, long while now. But it's here - this predates Contact, but chronologically falls half a year or so after Parameters. There's one more fic to go between the two and then that section of this story will be fully explained.
> 
> Then there's the stuff pre-Parameters, pre-Contact, and post, too! It's all gonna get painful and messy from here on out, kiddos!
> 
> (P.S. I don't have a beta-reader so I'm sorry if any grammatical errors slipped through x)

About four months later, it happens. 

They're at a run-down old diner in Sector 3 - not far from where Rude used to work the Upper Plate club scene, actually. It was a place he had suggested one night after work, remembering they did half-decent food at not-quite wallet-draining prices. It had stuck, of course - there's always one place that does; typical affair. Checked linoleum tiled floor, faded red leather booths by the windows, and matching stools at the service bar. Lights overhead that buzz with the effort of remaining illuminated... the waitress is ashen-faced beneath the layers of makeup used in an attempt to disguise it, and her fingertips are tinted yellow from tobacco, but her smile is kind and she greets them at their usual table with all the warmth she offers to any other patron, even if anyone with a brain would know who they are, and what they do. She takes their orders without pause and has their free-refill coffees at the ready in under a minute. The usual drill, really. It's become something of a habit, now - on the days where they don't have missions, anyway. Desk days, as Reno calls them. 

He gets to work, and finds Reno waiting for him by the entrance, they take the elevators together, sit at their desks; Reno makes Rude a coffee when he makes his own, and Rude tells him off for putting his feet up on the desk and not doing his paperwork until post-10am (because his brain apparently doesn't work before then). Reno throws paperclips at Rude when he wants his attention, and Rude waits for him to go get his next coffee, or lunch, then leaves the damn things upended in the cushion of his chair. There's a yelp and a groan after Reno unceremoniously collapses back into his chair, and a mumble from Rude that he should learn to check the seat before he sits, because someone obviously has it out for him (he's managed to successfully do this trick at least six times in the last four months, and you'd think that a guy would learn, or at least begin to suspect, but apparently it hasn't quite hit Reno yet that Rude actually has a sense of humour). They drink their coffees and eat their lunches in quiet companionship - on Rude's part, at least. Reno raves on about this and that, and douses his paperwork by sloshing his mug about for dramatic effect - practically throws his sandwich or burger or whatever unfortunate item was designated as his feast for the day, whilst Rude adds his cream and sugar and sips at his drink like a normal human being, and puts his food in his mouth where it belongs. They hand in their reports at the end of the day, and Reno waits for Rude to finish his filing, and then - if Rude doesn't hit the gym (which he often does, to Reno's chagrin) - they head off somewhere for dinner by six. If he goes to gym, they go at eight, with Reno either complaining loudly about having to wait so long that he's almost wasted away, or complaining even more loudly that he shouldn't have joined Rude's fitness ventures, and that he plans to eat a whole Chocobo once they get to dinner. 

Sometimes there's drink involved, sometimes there isn't.

Tonight there isn't, even if Reno keeps insisting there should be.

"Come on, Partner, we haven't been out drinkin' in like... I dunno, yo, what is it now? A month?"

"You've been out drinkin', only me that hasn't." It's true. Reno's been dragging anyone he can out bars and clubs each week; Rude isn't sure if this behavior is new, or if he's just noticing it more and more now that they actually spend free time together. All he knows is, the number of mornings on which he finds Reno hunched over his desk with a coffee mug pressed to his temple, and a half-pack of aspirin already consumed, is more frequent than is probably healthy. 

"S'not the same when you're not around." Reno kicks him lightly under the table, and swirls his coffee around its mug. No cream, no sugar. Just black and bitter and, Rude would say, gross. He looks down at his own coffee, already doused in cream and sugar, and frowns. Reno sighs loudly. "The others're cool an' all, but they cant hold it like you can. Always quit on me before I'm even half-way to wasted."

It's funny, Rude thinks, how quickly Reno has become dependent on his company, considering how distant and abrasive his attitude had been before. Four months of actually getting along properly - four months of Rude finally reciprocating his attempts at being friends as well as colleagues, and you'd think the damn kid had known him since forever. Think that Rude had been putting up with his badgering and pestering for years, from the way Reno practically hangs off him at every waking moment of the work day - and after, where he can help it... But it would be impossible to have it any other way; Reno practically elbowed his way into Rude's life, once he started accepting the offer of companionship. Once he pushed past the sour feelings left by Reno's original behavior, early on in their partnership, it was like he'd opened the damn floodgates on the overflowing mess that was his Partner. 

They still don't really know each other; their conversations are usually work related, or about something Reno saw on the news, or on the walk to work. Something that happened to Reno when he was off duty (because days off are the one thing Rude has managed to keep for himself, so far. Reno is a colleague, at the end of it all, and there has to be some boundary). Rude rarely starts a conversation, rarely ends them, either. Reno flirts mercilessly with anything that moves, and prompts Rude to do the same, though he never does; prompts Rude to check out passers by, with comments like 'look at the legs on that one, yo', and 'if I had an ass like that I'd be in those shorts too'; and failing that, he just flirts with Rude. One of his least favourite of Reno's pastimes, he has to admit; what started as a joking comment at the ShinRa HQ gym about the woman on the desk staring at Rude like he was 'dessert after a fad diet', and how Reno couldn't blame her, 'not with those abs, jeez', became a common occurrence. 

Reno's invited him back to his place a handful of times now, after a late night drinking, but so far he's avoided the whole thing; avoided Reno weaseling his way back to his apartment for the night, too... but the sad thing is, that even so, this is probably the closest Rude has ever let anyone else in the whole world get to him. Even with Sal, the Partnership had been professional. Even then they had kept their boundaries, and respected their own space. Ever since his mother...

Well. After all that, it wasn't exactly easy to get close to people. To even want to.

He had gotten through life so far by being like this, and it isn't like he's lonely. 

Not really.

Water under the bridge, but walls up. Guard up. Constantly reminding himself to never let that happen again...

"I'll come out next week." It's a small offering, but it seems to be enough, from the way Reno's eyes light up and his mouth stretches into a smirk.

"Heh, fuck yeah, yo! You can totally crash at my place if we decide we wanna pull a late night, or I could, I dunno, crash on your sofa or somethin'." He's all smug grins and loose shoulders, and Rude isn't going to shoot down that idea right now, but knows there's no way in hell it's happening.

His apartment is his space.

They aren't that close.

Their food is placed in front of them, accompanied by a yellow-toothed smile and a 'eat up, sweeties, dessert special's going fast today, don't wanna miss it!', and Reno waves the waitress off with a wink. Rude has never understood how he can flirt so casually with anyone and everyone - at first, he had assumed that he was just... like that. A playboy, someone liable to sleep around a lot and deal with his problems through that sort of release, but the longer they spend together, the more he begins to wonder how much of Reno's behavior is true, and how much is just... bravado. He wont ask, of course. It's not his place.

They aren't that close. 

"Yo, this burger is good. Wan' some?" Reno is brandishing his already half-demolished burger at Rude; mouth full of food still and fries poised in his other hand, ready to be shoved into his mouth the moment it is free again. Rude shakes his head, and picks up his own instead. They'd ordered the same thing. 

He really doesn't get Reno at all, sometimes.

"Yo, I heard that Tseng's got Deputy Director in the bag." It's not surprising, but Rude nods along with the words anyway, to show he's paying attention. Tseng had been putting in more effort than any one of the other senior 'administrators' in their department, and honestly half the time it seemed like Veld had already given him the damn job. Official title was just the last box to be checked. "Positions goin' next month, so. Guess there'll be a party or somethin'?"

"Tseng's not exactly the celebrating type." Rude chews a mouthful of burger thoughtfully, and Reno taps a fry against his lip in contemplation. 

"Yeah, guess so. Remember that time Gun found out when his birthday was? 'an the office decorated 'n shit?" It was hard not to remember; Rude has never seen such a grimace since, nor has he seen his fellow Turks rip down birthday banners and decorations with such vigor before in his life. He doubts he'll ever see it again, either. "What a stiff. I'd be way more fun."

"S'why you're not Deputy Director." Rude takes a sip of coffee to wash down some fries. "Don't think 'fun' is in the job description."

Reno snickers, and glances down at himself. Rude's gaze follows and he forces himself not to frown at the (typical) disheveled state of his Partner's appearance. "They'd probably make me wear a tie too. Nah, I'm good as is."

Half an hour later, and they've finished their food, for the most part - a few fries laying haphazardly upon their plates. Rude pushes a few of the lukewarm morsels around with his fork, as he ponders how to get out of the inevitable drinking invite Reno is going to throw his way.

"Hey, yo... some lady who just came in keeps lookin' over at us." Reno's lounging back in his chair, gaze apparently fixed on Rude, but it's clear he's stealing a sneaking glance at the service bar through his peripherals. Rude feels his shoulders tense a little, as he watches Reno's gaze flicker, slightly. Trying to get a better look, probably. "s'probably nothin', but..."

In their job, you could never be too careful. It could be nothing. Probably was, but even so...

He thinks of Sal. The way his face looked when they found him flat on his back in the middle of the street. Blood everywhere. He had been five meters from his apartment building.

It could be nothing, or it could be the difference between life and death.

"You could call the waitress over." Rude nods at the desert menu poking out of the condiment tray in the center of the table; it wouldn't raise suspicion, if something was indeed amiss, and it would give them both an excuse to look over to where the servers were currently bustling about. Reno smirks at him, and plucks it from the table, flipping through it briefly. Rude feels his shoulders tighten, urgency to fully assess the situation taking hold. "Just ask for the special."

"What if I don't want the special?" Rude blinks at him through his shades, and the disbelief must show on the rest of his features, because Reno suddenly looks at him defensively, voice a little louder than it should be, considering. "Hey, I haven't got money to waste on shit I don' wanna eat, Rude, jeez."

He starts, suddenly, practically dropping the menu in his hands... because the sound of footsteps - fast and frantic - almost a run - clacks against the tiles behind Rude. The sound of rustling cloth, hurried breaths.

The smell of summer, and spring water and home-cooked stew.

"Exc... Excuse me, but..." He feels his breath catch a little in his throat; eyes focused on Reno, whose hand is poised halfway inside his jacket - whose shoulders are unusually tense and whose eyes are darting between the intruder to their booth, and Rude, like he isn't sure what's going on or what to expect. Rude can feel another pair of eyes on him. Burning into his back.

He's scared to look.

He feels like a child again.

"...Rude, is that really you?" Reno is starting at him, and he knows he has to do... something. Anything.

He turns his head, slowly; giving himself time to register - to look and see and adjust. She's older now, of course; there's lines on her face that he's not seen before - that he doesn't remember. Grey flecks in the roots of her richly coloured hair, still dark and shimmering as he always recalled it, otherwise. Shorter than it was before - distinguished and softly curled around her features. Her lips seem a little thinner, cheeks a little less full, but her eyes - those eyes he sees every damn day when he looks in the mirror - are the same as they have always been. Warm and comforting. Gentle and kind... and right now, full of relief. Joy. Tears.

He takes a deep breath, and everything reminds him of scuffed knees and humid air.

"Yeah, it's me, mom." Reno, for what it's worth, almost chokes on his coffee, though the sound of his spluttering is almost drowned out by the shaking, audible breath of relief his mothers ushers into the air at his words. She looks almost exactly the way he remembers her - down to the pearly pink of her fingernails (which he observes as she brings to trembling hands to her own face), and the sparse flower-pattern of her dress. 

"Oh," Her voice is uneven, croaky from holding back tears - the hands over her own mouth seeming to be all that's keeping her together. This isn't the place and even she knows that; not with the waitresses bustling about them, or the chef staring at their reunion in intrigue from over the counter top. "Just look at you..." He stands up, because he can feel eyes on him from across the booth, and because he knows he should and because.... because she's looking at him like she isn't sure what she's supposed to do. It seems fitting. He doesn't, either. 

Her eyes are alight, and her tone cheerful, despite its shaking. He swears his legs are just as bad, as he steps towards her and stares down into her features. "You're so tall!"

"Was... gonna say you seemed shorter..." She laughs; the last time they had met, his head had barely risen above her shoulder.

The smile on her face is soft, hopeful, as she reaches out a trembling hand towards him and wraps weathered fingers into the fabric of his jacket sleeve; scared to touch, almost - but desperate to assure herself that he's real... that he's there and wont go anywhere. Rude himself is almost tempted to reach out and trace his fingers through her hair, much like he did in his youth - hours spent braiding long strands over and over. A distant memory now, but somehow so close-

"Can I- I mean, can we-"

"Actually, Miss, we were just gonna order dessert, if you wanna join?" Reno's voice suddenly cuts through the air, and Rude had almost forgotten he was even there. Too wrapped up in the woman in front of him; in examining her face, her eyes, he hair, her smile...

"O-Oh! I'm sorry I didn't... are you a friend of Rude's?" Her grip on her arm has not left - tightened if anything, as her gaze averts to where Reno lounges against the plush leather seat of the booth. As if she wants to be sure he wont go away, even whilst she's right beside him. He feels that lump in his throat again, but tries his best to ignore it. 

"Yeah, work buddy, I s'pose-"

"Oh! You're quite skinny for Club Security- Not that I mean to offend, I just..."

"Club Security?" Reno glances from Rude, to his mother, and back again, then... "Uh, nah I work bar. Get into plenty of fights on the door, but usually that's on my nights off, right buddy?" Rude doesn't even pretend not to let out a breath of relief when Reno decides to play along, as his mother just nods in quiet acceptance of his words. Reno slides himself over, plates, cutlery and all, and pats the empty seat next to him, though she takes no move towards the space he has freed up. "C'mon, I don' bite, an this way you guys can talk to each other properly." He offers out a hand, grinning from ear to ear. "Reno."

"Sofia." She gives Rude's arm a little squeeze, glancing at him with that same, sad, heartbroken smile, and then slides into the booth beside Reno. Rude takes his own seat again after a moment of dithering - lost in the sensation of a soft hand and a caring touch. Forcing a slight smile- barely a quirk of the corner of his lips - he adjusts his sunglasses a little and reaches for the desert menu for some kind of distraction. Unexpectedly, his mother frowns, all worry-lines and soft concern. 

"You're still wearing those? Even in here?" The gentle brown of her eyes dance to the dim lighting overhead, and then back to her son once again. She's clutching her bag to her chest like it might offer her some comfort. "Does the light still hurt your eyes, Rude...?"

"A little. Sort of a habit." 

Reno suddenly pipes in, leaning across the table a little with a look that expresses utter disbelief - all wide eyes and furrowed brows. "That's why you wear those?? An' here I thought it was part of your intimidation... thing."

Rude frowns at him, as he notices his mother pause in adjusting herself in her seat.

"That's kinda an intense look, Partner." Reno waggles his eyebrows, biting into a fry. "An' in front of your ma' too."

"Reno." Of all the times for Reno to decide he felt like flirting with Rude, now was certainly not an appropriate one; with his mother staring on in confusion and her bag still clutched in unsure hands.

"Likin' when you say my name all growly like- hey!" Rude, for what its worth, has pretty good aim, and manages to land a sauce-sodden fry right on Reno's nose, where it slaps against flesh audibly, and refuses to budge after. "Yo, you know this is like wasteful an' shit?"

"It's not if I get enjoyment out of it." He glances away from Reno, who is already picking the fry off his face and popping it into his mouth, and instead to his mother. The worry lines on her forehead seem foreign to him; all his recollections being of a cheerful woman who never seemed to forget her smile... somehow, she seems less vibrant. Worn in ways he cannot understand, when he thinks that she had freed herself from the abuse slowly killing her. "Order anything you want - you travelled a long way, right?"

"I-I'm alright, I'm not too hungry real-"

"Mom."

She blinks at him, a little taken aback by his surety, but smiles all the same, hiding it with her menu. "Alright... they have a cheesecake on the desert menu, would that and a coffee be alright?"

"Sure."

There's suddenly a mess of red-hair looming over his mother's shoulder, peering at her menu; she stiffens a little, obviously shocked, but Reno doesn't seem to notice (or perhaps its that he doesn't care). Grinning, he traces a finger down the menu and stabs at one particular spot with a laugh. "You buyin', Partner? I'm totally gettin' the chocolate fudge cake. An' a beer. I could totally go for a beer right now."

Two hours later, and Rude is wandering the late night city streets with his mother at his side; her arm linked through the crook of his elbow, one hand gripping his forearm as if to assure herself, still, that he will not go anywhere. He isn't planning to, wouldn't dare. Though, admittedly, he rather wishes Reno would.

His partner trails behind them both like a stray cat, skulking along the narrow streets in their wake and only occasional adding comments of no real consequence to their conversation. Rude figures, probably, he just doesn't want to be left out. Wants to remind them both that he is, indeed, still there and won't be leaving any time soon. 

He really wishes he would.

"Are you coping alright here? I have no idea how you can live in such a big city..." Her hand is gently squeezing at his arm as she speaks, and Rude glances to watch his mother's gaze travel from blaring light to blaring light. Neon burning stars into her pupils and casting a glow across her features. There's a light furrow to her brow when she turns her gaze upon him, finally. "I'd feel so lost."

He wants to tell her that being lost - a blurred face in an indistinguishable crowd - suits him down to the ground. That he had always been uncomfortable when acting the centre of attention. Wants to tell her that this is how he does his job; how he stays alive. Going unnoticed, and unrecognized... only, he doesn't say any of that. Just shrugs at her, and glances away. Dismissive. The neon glare of one bar sign catches his eye, and he focuses upon that instead of her intense stare, better to scrutinise than to be scrutinsed. Reno jumps in without missing a beat.

"I think that's the whole point, yo. You don't come to a place like this to stand out, you come here to disappear." He leans around her shoulder to smirk at her, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped. A lazy, carefree posture. "I mean, ain't that why you're here?"

"No, I heard from Rude's father that he had moved to Sector 5 in Midgar so-"

"You spoke to dad?" Rude's feet stop moving before he can catch himself, and he watches from behind his shades as his mother does the same. Just a few steps ahead. Shoulders squaring, twitching under her coat as the muscles tense in discomfort. Rude's stomach suddenly feels empty - like someone has punched him square in the gut and winded him completely. He hopes Reno hasn't noticed. They're not that close.

This aught to have been a private conversation, but that mess of red locks bobs around in the corner of his vision like a freckled pest.

"Only once. To find out where you were. I... I couldn't think of any other way of finding out."

"You already knew I was in Midgar."

"It's a big city, Rude... It could have taken forever to find you." And she isn't wrong, of course she isn't; and he knows she would never have spoken to his father unless there was no other choice, and yet-

His stomach churns a little at the thought of what might have happened. What could have gone wrong - she had tried so hard to free herself from his controlling grasp, that hearing she had suddenly risked all of that to find him was... it made him uneasy. Made him wonder what could be so urgent - so important - that she would risk so much to see him now, after so long. She eyes him with a weary look. "Rude, it's been a long time... and it was only over the phone, so he couldn't have done anything to me even if he'd wanted to. I needed to know you were alright; you hadn't written to me in years, hadn't called- and when I tried your old building, they said you'd moved out without a forwarding address..."

That had been standard ShinRa procedure. Protection, really. It had all happened so quickly he hadn't really had time to consider that she would need to know... he was lucky if she wrote to him once, maybe twice. Calls had ebbed away into nothing by the time he had hit his teenage years - long before he ever left Junon.

Something feels wrong, but he isn't sure what it is.

"My ma knows where I live, but I don't think she'd ever dare come visit. She'd freak if she saw my floor- I mean, not that I've seen my floor since I moved in." Reno's voice cuts through the tension, jabbering on and on as he stumbles into a monologue about the state of his apartment. It's a reprieve that is sorely needed, and Rude takes the opportunity to hang back a little; falling out of step with his mother and focusing instead on settling his breathing. Taking in the conversation and coming to terms with the new information; his mother, it seems, is content to listen to Reno - eyes following his every move, and a smile quirking at her lips. A laugh, light on her breath. He revels in the attention, and she seems happy for the distraction; all smiles and laughter and easy placation.

Rude lets himself fade into the background for a moment - just this brief moment - and breathes.

*

They're at his apartment, and Reno still hasn't left. Rude had watched on in silent, stoney-faced horror as his mother had offered Reno, all gangly limbs and winking flirtation - a spot for the night on Rude's couch... he could hardly argue. Reno had played along with his little façade of a 'normal' life without anything more than the occasional raised eyebrow when his mother's attention was focused elsewhere. If Reno had chosen to take his vengeance in using it as a way to weasel his way further into Rude's life... well. It wasn't the worst outcome.

His mother, for all the awkwardness of the situation, was handling it admirably; her smile was wide as she rushed from room to room, taking in the furnishings and décor, and the size of the kitchen. She reached herself up on her tip-toes to give him a brief hug of thanks, when he told her she would be taking his room for the night, to save sleeping on the couch or a rollaway bed; smiled when he conceded to discarding his shades for the night. Maybe that makes it worth the dull ache the overhead lights cause. 

Reno on the other hand, had decided he would much rather follow Rude like a lost puppy - or a cat, dodging around each of his steps. 

"Your pad's so cool, man. Is that a stainless steel blender? What the fuck? I thought maybe you didn't want any visitors because you were secretly a murderer or something."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I was imagining like... I dunno, a blood-soaked bathroom, and your last victim stuffed 'n mounted over your fireplace or some shit. The modern art's like, only a little better but it's not a corpse so that's somethin'."

"You haven't actually been to the bathroom yet." Rude doesn't bother pointing out that the single canvas of art came with the apartment and he simply hasn't bothered to take it down, as he moves to carry some spare blankets and pillows into his spare bedroom; currently not actually a bedroom, but more a miniature home-gym and generic storage space. He can feel Reno, hot on his heels, lurking behind him - pretends not to notice when a head of red-hair bobs around the door to the bathroom in passing.

"Figures. You're clean as your own damn shirt." Reno slumps against the doorway and watches as Rude begins to lay everything out on the floor; making some semblance of a bed. Even from the corner of his eye, Rude can tell his posture is awful, and debates throwing one of the pillows in his hands at the offending visage... but then, that's getting to involved. 

"Stand up straight or you're going to have a back-ache tomorrow."

"Says the guy who's gonna be sleeping on that pile 'o crap." Rude ponders the flimsy futon at his feet and finds himself humming in agreement. "You know..." Reno's tone is full of all the sleaze one might expect, as Rude glances over and catches him winking. "You could always cosy up with me on the couch, Partner. I won't bite - unless you're into tha-"

The pillow Rude throws makes a satisfying 'thwack' as it collides with Reno's face, but oddly he doesn't appear even a little put-out. "I'm fine here." He adds the comment for good measure, because sometimes it feels like Reno needs things spelled out for him before he will accept them as truth. His expression is hard to read; somewhere between serious and unsure. "Look... how're you hol-"

"Rude, is there somewhere I can leave my jacket? It's still a little wet from the rain earlier." His mother appears beside Reno in the doorway- uneasy is one word for her posture. A little awkward and unsure.

"There's a closet by the front door. I'll show you." In a few short strides, he is beside her, once again looking down at the top of her head and wondering when she became so small; so fragile. She follows him like a lost puppy; trailing in his wake like she isn't sure if she's allowed to be anywhere else. Reno ambles, not far behind - prodding at this and that as he goes - his attention always inevitably drawn back to the scene before him, this look on his features - something Rude cannot place... and, honestly... he isn't used to it; being the centre of attention. His shoulders stiffen and he feels uncomfortable. On edge. Like he's supposed to be doing something more than just... being. He tries to shrug off the scrutiny as he deposits his mother's coat in the closet, but it remains, unchanging.

He wants to talk to his mother properly - to go through everything that has led her to seek him out. What must have been so important that she would risk speaking with his father after all the man had done... but Reno's presence crushes his resolve, and leaves him tiptoeing around the edge of a confrontation he knows cannot begin. Years of questions bubble into his chest; why did you leave, why couldn't you take me with you, why didn't you come back, was it my fault?

Are you alright...?

They sit sourly in the back of his throat, unspoken and unwanted. 

"I was hoping I could treat you to breakfast tomorrow, Rude. And..." Her voice is sweet - soft and breathy, and he wonders if it's just nerves that have her breathing so shallowly, or something else. "And maybe we could talk - just you and me." She smiles, and her hand on is arm is a comforting touch he did not realise he had craved so desperately in all these years- "O-of course that's not to say you're not welcome, Reno... but..."

Bony hands rise in front of Reno's chest in a placating gesture, as he leans against the back of the couch and observes their conversation like some enthralled onlooker. "It's cool, don't worry about it; I'll treat you to dinner some other time to make up for it - just us, Sofia." There's a wink to close off the sentence, and Rude doesn't miss the giggle, or the roll of his mother's eyes. She is used to the type, it seems.

"I don't mean this in a bad way, Reno, but you're really not the sort of person I'd expect my son to be friends with."

Are they really friends?

"I know right? Just lucky I guess."

He cannot let them be that close.

"That's fine, Mom." He cuts through their conversation clumsily, drawing attention that he wishes wasn't upon him. "It... talking things over sounds good."

Clearing the air; catching up.

"I didn't mean to upset you by mentioning your father." She seems to blurt it out involuntarily. Words bubbling up into her throat from somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, and he knows that sensation; knows it all too well. He was the master of controlling it, now... and it seemed she was not so adept. She did always wear her heart on her sleeve - always warm and welcoming with her affections, to any who might want them.

"I know."

"After everything, even I wasn't sure I could... but the thought of not finding you again scared me more than he ever did. I was..." She swallows, and looks him in the eye; he feels stuck. Like a deer in the headlights, without the protection of his shades. Her grip shifts a little, uneasily, and he lets his eyes fall away from hers to find that gesture instead. "I was always so worried that everything he had done to me he would just... take out on you." He had, but it had always been worth it, to know that she wasn't suffering anymore.

Rude hums, a quiet noise of acceptance. Her hand is warm on his arm, and though Rude is sure that Reno is watching with bated breath, he lets himself find her gaze again and hold it. "I would have taken you with me, if I could."

He knows.

"We can talk about it tomorrow." He smiles; a promise- and her hand feels soft as it slips down his arm to squeeze his fingers gently.

It will be difficult, and painful. Of that much, he is sure; but at least it's progress.

Her hand feels warm as he squeezes her fingers in turn.

*

He can't sleep.

It's dark in the apartment now; the kitchenette light is still on as always, but the rest of the room is cast in shadows - only the dim, green light filtering through the shutters of the blinds from the streets outside left to illuminate what remains. The world is still and quiet, only the gentle hum of Mako reactors - a typical sound, of course - thrumming in the air, and yet... he cannot sleep. The futon he had laid out in the small storage room quickly grew uncomfortable - the surroundings too enclosed. His mind reeled and his thoughts would not cease and now... well, now he's standing barefoot on cold laminate flooring in the open plan of the living room and he only feels marginally better. The silence is crushing. The darkness too heavy. He's running it all through his mind again and again, over and over. His mother, back in his life; alive and well and wanting to see him. 

A large part of him still can't process the days events, and it all seems like just a dream. Something he might just wake up and find had never happened; too good to be true. Almost as if he dreamt of long tresses of greying hair he once knew so well, of the flower patterned fabric of her dress - just as he remembered from his youth. Dreamt of her soft lips on his forehead when he wished her goodnight, and she stood on her tiptoes to hug him tightly... 

Another part of him is bitter and unsure; will she stay, or will she be gone again, by tomorrow, never to return? It wouldn't surprise him when he considers her past actions, and yet...

It's all just-

"Yo, can't sleep?"

There's a click-clack of cellphone keys being jabbed and prodded, and Rude blinks as he registers a faint light coming from the other side of the sofa, hidden by the plush leather back that blocks his view.

He hadn't expected anyone else to be awake.

"Yeah."

The clacking continues.

"Your ma's nice. She fuckin' hugged me when I said goodnight, yo. I still can't even get drunk hugs off you."

It doesn't seem to end; a constant stream of clicking buttons...

"...yeah..."

Clack, clack...

"Can't believe she ran off and left you with your dad, after all that stuff she was sayin', though... Sounds like he was an asshole."

"...Yeah." He's not exactly good at these conversations, after all. It's too much to tell someone he hasn't known for very long. Someone he barely knows at all, in hindsight. His relationship with his own father was barely something he allowed even himself to think too much on. It was over, after all. They hadn't spoken in years. "Yeah..."

The sound stops, though the dim illumination from the cell-screen remains - casting a faint glow upon the ceiling fan above.

"You... okay?"

"Y-"

"An' if you say 'yeah' in that stupid sad voice again 'm gonna kick you in the dick." A fluffy mess of red hair pops up from behind the sofa, closely followed by bare, gangly limbs and low-lidded eyes, burdened with sleep. Propping his arms across the back of the sofa, he blinks at Rude like a lost child for a moment, then lets his head loll to one side, a lopsided little smirk present on his features. "Ya' know, you look way less scary without the shades."

"S'why I wear them."

"Guess people would be way less likely to talk if they think you're a big softie." He pauses, and somehow in the dim light of the twilight hours, Rude thinks his smirk looks a little softer... almost like a smile. His voice barely drawls when he speaks again; quiet and calm. "You got your ma's eyes."

He knows that, of course. His father had told him enough times; drunken, angry. It had always sounded like some harsh, hateful accusation, in those moments. An insult more than anything. In contrast, there's an appreciation in Reno's words that he can't place.

"...thanks."

"Huh?" Reno blinks at him from over the sofa, eyes wide and a little confused. "Wha' for?"

For having his back.

"Was easier... talking to her." Rude doesn't allow himself to look away from Reno's gaze, much as he wants to; much as the lack of his sunglasses as a barrier makes him uneasy. The dim light of the room around them makes him brave, and - he hopes - hides the insecurity on his features. He doesn't do personal matters. Personal conversations. It isn't in his nature and he isn't the type for it - private and reserved in so many aspects, and yet...

The faint shimmer of mako in Reno's eyes in the shadowy room before him is calming; cool like water, and the way his shoulders - bony and angular, come up to meet his ears as Rude's words sink in, is almost kind of endearing. They don't know each other too well - not yet, too soon - but every day he learns a little more, and a little more, and he has to admit that he's growing more and more fond of Reno as time goes on. He finds himself warming to the strange little irregularities of his behavior; the unexpected honesty of his actions, the insecurities that slip occasionally through his cocky facade. And even today's new discovery... he has to admit, it's almost kind of... surprising. He wouldn't have ever noticed without his shades.

"So... thanks."

For being a friend.

"Man don' even, s'not like I was busy 'n... ya know, it's... cool. We're partners, so..." He's gradually sinking back behind the sofa, suddenly quite interested in the screen of his cellphone again... and that seals it. Today's new discovery about his partner is the most surprising so far.

The clack-clack of cellphone buttons resumes as Reno's hair disappears from view, and before he can stop himself, Rude is leaning over the back of the sofa to peer down at him; a tangle of blanket and limbs, he's sprawled out haphazardly - one leg levered against the nearby coffee table, the other crossed over, bent against the sofa cushions and suspended in mid-air. It seems fair to change the subject, as the pink tinge in Reno's cheeks is obviously unwelcome.

"Girlfriend?" Rude asks, trying to keep the tone light. He leans over the sofa on both elbows, hunching a little.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, kinda. She's cool an' all, but I dunno. Kinda takin' it more seriously than I wanna..." Reno's nose scrunches a little when he frowns at the screen, and the light freckles dotted across his skin seem more stark in the glow of his cell-screen. Rude can feel his spine protesting to the hunched posture he's adopted in order to peer down at Reno on his makeshift bed, but simply shrugs to loosen his joints a little. Heavily lidded eyes seem to latch onto him at the motion, and a pink tongue wets a bottom lip that had previously been tugged by white teeth. "How 'bout you, huh? Got yourself a secret girlfriend?"

"Nope." Rude replies simply, gaze wandering to the tempered bobbing of Reno's foot against the coffee table.

"Secret boyfriend?" Rude doesn't even flinch, just glances down at Reno, who stares up at him expectantly; one eyebrow slightly raised - a lazy smirk on his features.

"Nope."

A heavy sigh breezes across Rude's features from below, as Reno sinks into the sofa cushions a little more. "An' here I thought I could make us even on the embarrassment front... you don't make this easy, do ya, partner?" 

"'s easy to embarrass me, you just gotta do it right." Reno considers him for a moment; or so it seems. His eyes, lids hanging low as ever and heavy with sleep, wash over Rude as if trying to capture something in his expression - his hand is tracing lazy circles on his own bare stomach, right above the portion of his abdomen where the blanket Rude loaned him for the night rests haphazardly. There are little scars - cuts and grazes long-since healed, dotted about the pale skin of his torso - amidst freckles he didn't know were there. He takes note of each mark and commits it to memory; observing as he would anything else. Say little, notice everything. It's how he's always been so good at-

"My face is up here, yo."

He isn't sure how he ever forgot that he wasn't wearing his shades; observing everything is easy enough when people cant see where your eyes are focusing, but without them-

"Sorry."

"I don' mind." There's a snicker, tangled in those words, as Reno flicks his cellphone closed and tosses it onto the coffee table, shuffling against the sofa cushions and resting his arms behind his head. Rude tries not to flinch at the echoing clatter that resonates as the two items collide. "Takin' the compliments where I can get 'em. You don't hand 'em out easy."

Rude hums, quietly, in agreement - even if Reno's interpretation of his stare is wrong - and the conversation naturally fades away into silence. Reno's gaze has shifted a little - landed on Rude's left shoulder and refuses to budge, though its clear he's not really looking at anything in particular. Rude makes a point of looking at the coffee table, and not at the exposed stomach before him, in case his glance is noticed again. There's a scuff on the left corner, where the phone bounced; he makes a mental note to polish it out later.

"I'm gonna make a coffee. You want one?"

"Sure, yo. I ain't sleepin' anyway." Reno is up and half-over the back of the couch before it occurs to Rude that, so far as he was aware, the idiot was practically naked. Something he doesn't exactly need nor want to see... but as it turns out, as he tenses ready to lunge for the nearest pillow to shove over Reno's nether-regions and cover his shame, it is unnecessary. Reno is, unexpectedly, wearing boxers.

A neat pair of boxers, at that.

...Rude's boxers, to be precise.

"What? Oh, these?" He glances down at himself, and to the underpants hanging almost dangerously low on his narrow hips. "Didn' have anything to sleep in an' figured it'd be fine since you can just wash 'em. I swiped them outta your dresser when you were sortin' out your ma."

Rude concedes to himself that it's better than Reno running around his apartment entirely nude, and proceeds to the coffee machine on the counter top. There's probably enough grounds left in the filter to make a decent cup, but they've been sat out for some time so Rude empties it out and starts from scratch. Reno's nose wrinkles as he dumps the used filter into the trash. "S'wasteful, yo."

"It'd taste stale by now." He shrugs.

"Your gil you're chuckin' in the trash." Reno shrugs in turn, as he slouches against the counter to Rude's right. "Didn't sound like it was easy for you as a kid, but I'm guessin' you always had enough food on the table? My ma'd kill me if i wasted even one mouthful of coffee. That stuff's expensive."

"Guessing you didn't always?" He doesn't mean to ask, but it's rather dawned on Rude these past few hours of Reno practically interrogating him and his mother for details of their lives, that... honestly, he doesn't actually know anything much about Reno at all. He knows how much he hates mayonnaise, because he hates eggs. Knows how hot he thinks the girl who works the main reception desk of the ShinRa building is. Knows his favourite drinks at bars, his favourite songs to dance to... but he doesn't actually know Reno. He didn't have any idea the guy had a girlfriend until tonight.

"Heck no, why'd you think I'm so skinny?" It sounds so blunt and matter-of-fact, and Rude can't really retort. He's seen Reno put food away like he's stocking his stomach for hibernation, but he always looks so... sinewy. Of course it would make sense that through his formative years he didn't eat enough. He looked malnourished almost constantly. Rude can see his ribs even now, poking out of his sides even with muscle clearly evident on his frame. "Sometimes we'd be fine, but in the Slums you never know. The good days, usually ma would try and keep food aside in case we needed it later, so I didn't really notice a difference." 

There's a small smattering of freckles just across the dip of Reno's left collarbone, and it catches Rude's attention in the fading light.

"Guess it's just one of those things." He rubs it, absentmindedly. Rude wonders for a moment, just a moment, if Reno is self-conscious about them. "Still doesn't sound as rough as having to deal with your dad."

Rude rolls his shoulders dismissively as he pours coffee into the first of two cups, and hands it over to Reno's waiting hands, not wanting to go into the matter any further. It's not time yet. Liquid swills around as it exchanges hands. Black, unsweetened. Thin lips tinge pink from the heat as Reno takes his first sip, and Rude busies himself with focusing on putting sugar and cream into the second cup. Noticing everything without being noticed himself was easy with his shades on, and much harder without. Reno, for what it's worth, seems distracted by downing his coffee in one gulp, slamming the empty mug back down and grinning expectantly as Rude finished stirring his own coffee.

"One more, yo." He's grinning, sly and smug and ear-to-ear. "And could you put whiskey in this one?"

"Not on your life, Reno."

"Aw, come on." He doesn't bother to disguise his grin, and certainly doesn't seem surprised that Rude is denying his request. "Bet your ma would find it funny if i was like... drunk and runnin' round with your tie on my head."

"Doubt it." Rude elbows Reno lightly as he finishes pouring him a second cup of coffee, and sips at his own quietly. He doesn't actually doubt that his mother would probably find Reno hilarious. Doesn't doubt that she'd giggle at the idea of him drunk and misbehaving around the apartment, but... well, it's all too familiar. There's meant to be a distance between them, to keep things professional. To prevent another Sal situation all over again-

"'s nice, actually... ya know, getting to see your place and meet your ma." Reno has already downed half of his coffee, and swills the remaining contents of the mug around as he stares at the ceramic contemplatively. "I know you're private 'n all, but, yo, it's nice to... see you're not just some big lug who spends all his time at the gym and doesn't care, right?"

"We've been hanging out at work for months, Reno."

"Yeah but that's... at work. Sometimes after but not like... often... I'dunno, it's just nice to know you're kinda... soft under all that." He shrugs, and its the second time that evening that Rude has watched a pink tinge well up beneath his freckles. Now, in the clear light, he watches it spread from face to shoulders; the tips of his ears, even, turning a soft rosy pallor. "I guess when we partnered up it was hard cuz... you didn't seem to wanna show your... human side?" He shrugs, takes a swig of coffee, and wipes at his mouth. "Felt like you were tryin' to be better than me... since, yo, you know my main complaint from the bosses was how short my temper was 'n..."

"Was?" Rude queries bluntly.

Reno snorts, and punches his shoulder. There's a lively sheen behind his eyes that makes Rude want to joke again, to keep it there. "See what I mean? You were never like this before, yo."

Rude concedes that, yes, he had softened a little; maybe let Reno in just that little bit, but...

"I don' have many people that I get along with, so... I dunno. It just means a lot I guess." Reno shrugs, and glances at Rude in discomfort. "This is awkward, yo, can you stop lookin' at me without your shades on? I feel naked."

"I mean..."

"Yo, was that another joke? Who are you and what the hell did you do with the real Rude?" Reno's eyes, tinted with a base infusion of Mako, shine with amusement, and Rude finds himself looking away before he even registers that he is doing. There's something oddly... soft about Reno, when they're like this. Walls down. Vulnerable. It's not what Rude is used to and it throws him off his own guard. His smile, soft and fond, seems almost foreign. "Thanks for the coffee, anyhow."

Rude knows he is being thanked for more than that, and nods slowly.

"Thanks for stealin' my favourite boxers."

"Next time, yo, you can take mine."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking it out with me, guys! I love writing my boys <3 
> 
> If you want some good Reno/Rude tracks, I'm working on a playlist to accompany this fic series - in the meantime, Twin Skeletons (Hotel in NYC) by FallOut Boy is a good shout for the lads ;D
> 
> As always, I thank my bud Getti for always shipping this with me and being the reason I started rewriting my age-old handwritten Turks fics. They're so much better now than baby-me could ever have managed.


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